They embraced.
‘Something fierce,’ Cayley said indistinctly. ‘But me – I can be as fierce as you. I’m the Wellwisher, the warrior.’
‘But I’m a Magician,’ Heriot said. ‘And I’m putting you under a spell.’
‘Only if I choose,’ Cayley replied, putting her hands behind his head. ‘And anyway, if it’s a spell who’s casting it? It might be me.’
As they kissed it seemed to Heriot that deep in its fortress inside his head the occupant came sharply alive. Almost as one person he and Cayley swayed and then collapsed together, gently into the grass.
Melting, his occupant was crying as it tumbled with him. Free at last. Now! But he hardly paid it any notice.
‘Now,’ he mumbled. ‘Remake me, Cayley!’
‘Talk, talk,’ said Cayley, taking his ears in her hands and shaking his head. ‘Leave words behind, can’t you?’
‘Remake me,’ he repeated. ‘And fair’s fair, I’ll remake you,’
They kissed again. And Cayley was right. Their final embraces were beyond all the words that Heriot had ever learned or carried with him over the years. Melting! cried the occupant, and Heriot melted as he had never melted before.
Part Six
The Challenge
38
Saving Dysart
Sometimes it seemed to Linnet that she was strong enough to resist her father’s intentions until the end of time. She believed herself to be married to Dysart in every true way, despite her father telling her, over and over again, that she would grow out of this particular illusion.
‘You wanted me to marry Luce,’ she cried. ‘You wanted me to marry him because he was second in line to the throne of Hoad. But now Dysart has taken his place, and it is Dysart I love.’
‘Love!’ said her father derisively. ‘What do you mean by that? And anyway … anyway …’ He paused.
Linnet had noticed this expression of uncertainty on his face several times over the last few weeks. ‘What’s going on?’ she cried. ‘I know something’s going on and you won’t tell me. Is it because the King has gone out to the Islands?’
And, as she shouted this at her father, she immediately knew that whatever was causing her father’s doubt was indeed something to do with the King’s strange departure, and she was suddenly filled with fear for Dysart.
‘He seems to have left his city, his whole country, so undefended,’ her father muttered. ‘I want to know why. And the couriers who came this morning tell me that now the Magician of Hoad has disappeared.’
For some reason this news sharpened Linnet’s own anxieties, though, once again, she was anxious, not for Heriot but for Dysart. The couriers who had brought this news to her father had also brought her letters from Dysart, who seemed to feel that Heriot, anxious to be free from Betony Hoad as ruler, had chosen to vanish for a while. But when it’s all over he’ll be back again, Dysart had written confidently.
Even as she argued with her father Linnet could feel Dysart’s letter, somehow alive with his particular writing, tucked into the waistband of her petticoats, scratching against her skin. It was almost as if the words were dissolving through the skin and into her blood. And once in her blood they were being pumped through her heart over and over again.
‘I’ve had enough!’ said her father abruptly. ‘I have always favoured the Dannorad. Hoad has history, Diamond is powerful and has always been a temptation, but it has lately become incomprehensible. Let’s stand back from something so unreliable. Let’s knit ourselves into the Dannorad. I know it’s not your first choice, but …’ He hesitated.
‘You know it’s not my choice at all,’ Linnet answered calmly. Dysart’s hidden letter was like an urgent caress. Her body became a country in its own right, insisting on its own private ambitions.
‘My dear,’ said her father. ‘My dear girl … you must understand. It is given to men to rule, to make decisions on behalf of their daughters … their women. Men must take on the weight of responsibility. It is a heavy weight … a torment at times. I wouldn’t want you to suffer because I failed to decide. I know I have delayed making a choice for you because of your attachment to Prince Dysart, but it seems to me that his situation is … unstable.’
‘What do you mean?’ cried Linnet, for she felt there was a sly meaning in what her father was saying – something beyond his words.
‘Let’s say that I have had some indication that Betony Hoad has an agenda of his own … not necessarily a wise one. His father has left him to rule and his ruling may take some personal direction. And by the time the King comes back it may be too late to change that direction.’
It was then that Linnet knew her father was aware of some treacherous intention unfolding all those leagues away in Diamond. It was then she knew she must run away, for Dysart must be warned and she was the only one who could be trusted to warn him.
As her father talked on, using his most reasonable voice, Linnet was pulling up a map of Hoad in her mind … remembering the main roads and towns, though she knew she would have to avoid these. Her journey must be an indirect one … determined but furtive. She must pass through the land like an urgent shadow. So Linnet began a calculation, frightened and yet exhilarated by the adventure she was contemplating. One horse – she would have to take only the one horse, and it would need to carry food and water as well as a rider. Time! It would take days to reach Diamond, so she would need money, and she would also need to be armed.
But, as these thoughts ran through her mind, slowly turning from disjointed speculations into actual plans, she bowed her head submissively, apparently receiving her father’s arguments as a dutiful daughter should.
‘After all, Prince Alain has waited very patiently for you to make up your mind,’ her father was saying.
‘He’s waited for you to make up your mind,’ Linnet said, trying to keep the sarcasm in her voice as mild as possible. ‘And he hasn’t exactly gone without women, has he?’
‘That is a Lord’s privilege,’ said her father quickly. ‘It doesn’t mean anything. Linnet, just think! If Hagen and the Dannorad unite, we have the prospect of becoming a country in our own right. We won’t have to be a subsidiary in the conglomeration of Hoad. You may – somewhere along the line you may indeed – attain the glory of being a Queen of a new country – Hagen remade. If you were rash enough to marry Dysart you might not ever advance so far. Betony Hoad is a young man, even if he replaces his father – even if Dysart becomes the direct heir …’ His voice trailed away. Linnet thought he had closed his argument, but suddenly he spoke again. ‘I think Betony Hoad might betray his father, but I don’t think Dysart would. So if Betony Hoad made a move … if he chose to exile the King, I feel Dysart’s life might be … modified.’
Linnet stared at him directly. ‘You think Betony might kill Dysart?’ she asked, sounding nothing more than mildly curious, though the tempest building inside her was becoming increasingly furious.
‘At the very least I think Dysart might spend many years in Hoad’s Pleasure,’ her father said. ‘I think Betony Hoad may like to be completely certain of his position.’
It occurred to Linnet that her father was not speculating. He had been encouraged to guess at something … and was guessing with a strong element of confidence. The courier who had brought her letters from Dysart had also brought letters for her father, and letters for those officials of Diamond who lived in Hagen representing the King. After all, Linnet thought, being in Hagen was something of exile for these men. If Betony Hoad established a cause, Diamond men, half-exiled on the edges of Hoad might be drawn back in to support him. As she thought about all this, her sudden, secret plan was continuing to work itself out in the back of her mind.
I mustn’t do things too quickly. I must plan, she was thinking. And I’ll need a strong horse … my father’s horse might be the best. My father will try guessing which way I’ve taken, so I’ll travel by a mixed road … spin off through the villages of the Vincey estate then into t
he forest …
She smiled smoothly at her father, as wild thoughts chased themselves through her head, and, after a moment, he smiled back with relief, as if they had come to an understanding and all their troubles were over.
‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘You know you are my treasure, and I want happiness for you … happiness for you and power for Hagen. We are privileged people, but we have to serve our counties as well as ourselves.’
Or I might make for Lancewood, Linnet was thinking. It would mean a longer journey, but it might be safer. Would I need another horse?
In three days the couriers would return, perhaps with more letters from Prince Betony Hoad to her father. Linnet went to her room.
‘I’m not feeling sleepy,’ she said to her maid, a young woman she suspected of reporting to her stepmother. ‘You can leave me for a while. I won’t need to change my clothes just yet. I’m planning to read.
Solitude was wonderful. She sat down then, lifted her skirts and slipped Dysart’s letter from the waistband of her petticoats and read, noticing the small splutter of ink, as if Dysart had pressed too hard on the paper.
Linnet, I just don’t believe in Betony. And I long to be properly united with the land. There’s only one thing I want as much and you know what that is. And now I’ve lost my Magician. I hope he’s simply run away for a while, because I think he’d be very wise to keep clear of Betony Hoad. I wish I knew for sure just where he has gone. Sometimes Heriot’s very existence seemed to mock Betony Hoad, saying ‘Here I am! And I am a Magician. You are only a Prince. You can tell men what to do and punish them if they don’t do it, but I can make the seasons dance and the sun rise.’ It’s the sort of thing that would infuriate my brother.
Linnet found her own pen and paper and began to write rather desperately.
Dysart my dear, my dearest dear! Be careful. Something in the way my father has been talking makes me think he knows you are in danger from Betony Hoad. I can’t be sure. And you say Heriot has already disappeared. So be careful! Be careful! I don’t want you disappearing too. And there are things I am planning I cannot write down, because there’s no certainty this letter will reach you unread by someone else. Dysart, life is wicked, but the wickedness of it makes it adventurous too, and I am planning adventure.
39
The One Man
Cayley woke, lying naked under her coat – the coat of the Wellwisher, the braid of her dyed hair twining out, a scarlet serpent among the wild grass. As she opened her eyes Heriot, sitting beside her, turned and looked at her. They stared at each other for a moment … a moment in which it seemed their two glances twisted into each other and became an invisible tether tying them together.
‘Good morning!’ said Heriot.
‘You look like a different man,’ Cayley said, smiling and drowsy, but also a little puzzled. ‘You really do.’
‘That’s because I am,’ Heriot replied. ‘Do you want breakfast?’
Cayley continued to stare at him. ‘What’s happened to you?’ she asked at last. ‘I mean it’s not just morning, is it?’
‘I might find it difficult to tell you,’ said Heriot. ‘I know what’s happened, but words are not enough. What about you?’
‘Almost free,’ she said. ‘Except there’s that one thing set down in me. I’ve told you. That one thing …’
‘I know,’ Heriot said. ‘I felt it fall away for a moment back there, and then I felt it building itself back into you again. But it’s been true transformation for me. Remember I told you about what happened to me when I was a child … Izachel swooping in on me, feeding on that sleeping power in me and tearing me in two. I grew up to be myself and my own occupant as well … two of us in the one head.’
Cayley nodded.
‘Well, during the night,’ Heriot went on, ‘during the fire and explosion of us making true love – I felt that occupant move towards me. It took a strange energy to move across the gap, but you and me – we created that energy, and my occupant couldn’t resist. And as you and I melted into each other, there was this other melting inside me. Old injuries healed. I’ve become what I should have been from the beginning.’
He was telling her, but he couldn’t really describe the overwhelming moment when he not only felt himself becoming part of her, but also felt his own completion. The division within him had not been able to withstand the simultaneous assertion and surrender of self. He had been transformed.
‘You restored me,’ he said.
They kissed, but gently now.
‘That’s my story,’ he said. ‘Tell me yours.’
Cayley gave him an unusual look, somehow unsure and humble. ‘I can’t tell it yet,’ she said, ‘I want this mood to last for a bit, before that old stuff takes over. Which it’s bound to do, it’s my first direction.’
‘Well then, let’s have breakfast,’ Heriot said. ‘Let’s have a day or two of rest. Then, maybe, we can start all over again.’
40
Losing a Way
Riding out, alone and lonely through a wild land, Linnet suddenly felt she had made a great mistake. It had been disconcertingly easy, and once on the road, in the beginning at least, there had been a huge exhilaration in cantering off through the early morning with an old moon in the east, fading from bright silver to blue, half bracketing the new day. She was off and away … off to warn Dysart about his strange brother. She was becoming a heroine of the heart.
I’m free, she had found herself thinking. I’m out in the world. I’m not just a lady of Hagen, I’m a true adventurer.
She came to a familiar crossroads, and turned left.
‘They’ll look for me down the central road,’ she told herself, and then further down the road she had chosen, she reached yet another crossroads, where she turned north, making for Diamond. But after that things became rather more complicated. She stopped, dismounted, sat down by the roadside and unrolled her map.
That way, she thought, tapping the paper with her forefinger, and then felt doubtful. Was the road she had taken actually marked on that map, flapping in front of her as if it were desperate to escape her and fly off on its own? Travelling the central road she would have had some idea of how time and distance should correspond – she had travelled along it several times and its geography was familiar, but this wasn’t true of the road on which she now found herself. She had expected to ride through villages, those minute names on the map, but the roads she traced with urgent fingers seemed to unravel under her touch, breaking down into a maze of lines – tangled threads – dwindling to dotted tracks going nowhere. Linnet knew she was lost.
‘But I’ll find myself again,’ she said aloud, reassuring herself. ‘I knew it wouldn’t be easy once I left the main roads.’
The day wore on. Though she was used to riding, she found she was beginning to ache and decided to camp in a small glade.
From the beginning, Linnet had known she would take days to arrive in Diamond. She had known she would need to sleep on the ground and had brought a folded blanket. What she was not prepared for was just how uncomfortable it was. At first, since she was very tired, she slept easily enough. Later she woke in the dark, her right hip and shoulder hurting, the earth below her seeming determined to reject her. It was some relief to turn on to her back for a while, but, all too soon, her back began to ache. Hours went by, as she commanded herself to sleep, only to find herself incapable of carrying out her own commands. Twisting right and left, desperate to find a comfortable position, she comforted herself. It’s part of the adventure. Be brave! Be strong! And then, at last, morning began to stain the sky with its first light, and she was off and away, glad to be on her horse again, glad to recognise the pattern of the map stretching out on the land in front of her.
However, she hadn’t gone very far before the stiffness of the night she had just struggled through began to reassert itself. Linnet set her teeth. ‘We’re not going back,’ she told the horse. ‘Look ahead! There’s a road.’ It was a road and mor
e than a road. She was trotting down the hill into a village.
At first Linnet felt relief, but almost at once this pleasure faded. For the first time she found herself wondering what she must look like, dishevelled and tired, a woman riding, unattended, out of nowhere. People in the village came out to stare at her, mostly with curiosity but sometimes with something approaching fear, as if she were a tangled witch dashing in on them. And some of the men in particular studied her with curious, blank expressions she found hard to define.
She spoke to the people, asking if she could buy food, holding out a few silver coins and found, to her astonishment that, though they certainly spoke the same language, she could barely understand them, and that, judging from their frowning faces, they could barely understand her. Then one man sidled forward, staring at her intently.
‘Food,’ he said. ‘She needs food. Bring her some bread and cheese. Could you do with beer as well?’
His question was asked rather insolently, and several of the villagers laughed.
‘Where are you off to, little miss?’ asked a second man, smiling up at her in a sickly fashion she couldn’t help mistrusting.
‘I’m riding to Diamond,’ Linnet said.
‘Riding to Diamond? Just fancy, all that way. And you’re right off the track,’ the second man said. ‘You should have turned back there …’ He sketched unintelligible lines in the air as he spoke.
Someone brought bread and cheese along with a bag of apples, and Linnet packed it into her saddlebag, before passing over a silver piece. She could immediately feel people’s attention focus on her money, felt their eyes flick from the hand that had received the payment, then back to her face, and then to her saddlebag.
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